


Caught and Released

by svecounia



Category: KÀ - Cirque du Soleil
Genre: Dark, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 21:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19710232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svecounia/pseuds/svecounia
Summary: The Counselor's Son catches the captive Twin Brother in a moment of weakness and exploits it mercilessly.





	Caught and Released

Ache. Different parts and to different degrees, but aches all the same. His head, his back, his legs. His heart. Omare couldn't face that yet. Better to take stock of his physical condition. He started small, flexing his fingers and rolling his head around, then winced. Tight but manageable. Ankles next, then knees… still good. He arched his back and hissed in pain, but it wasn't as bad as yesterday, probably due to his night spent in his cramped, round cage rather than any serious injury. Omare had never cracked a rib before - his teachers had never been so brutal - but he was sure he'd know if he had one by now. And if the spearmen who captured him had wanted him truly incapacitated, he had no doubt they would have done a sound job of it. 

Omare sighed and leaned back against the rounded wall of his prison. It rocked backwards with the shift in his weight, then leveled itself, leaving Omare with a view of the cavern ceiling. Even during the day - or what he estimated to be day in the windowless cave - he couldn't see the top. He wondered how deep below the earth he was, how much rock and steam stood between him and freedom. 

His sister was somewhere on the other side. He had to believe it, though he'd seen the storm churning on the horizon when she made her escape from the harbor. She was fine. She had to be. And if Jimaya was out there, so was Kouda, ever the loyal nanny. There wasn't a force on earth that could separate her from her charges. Not both of them. 

And Capo was somewhere down here with him. That was another thing Omare fought desperately to believe, though his opponents had gotten the better of him before he could see what had happened to his court jester during the ambush. He'd called out to Capo many times the first night in his cage. No response had come except from a spearman that brandished his weapon and snarled for him to be quiet or lose whichever finger he'd miss least. 

Yujin said she'd find out about Capo for him. Thinking about her was a different kind of ache, one he welcomed rather than avoided, and he hadn't settled on the right word for it yet. It squeezed in his chest when she visited and threatened to crack his ribs when she smiled. How the Chief Archer's daughter had grown up in a place like the Mountain Den was beyond him. She was so soft and gentle, a little flicker of light. 

Omare closed his eyes. He ached of hunger too, and thirst, but those he could push aside for a different sort of longing, a few moments of reprieve as his hand drifted downwards. The cavern air was close and warm, like breath on his cheek, and Omare imagined it was hers. A tentative press of lips, a tiny gasp of pleasure, a featherlight whisper of skin on skin. Yujin was the only gentle thing he'd felt since his capture, the only voice that didn't speak with a sneer or scorn, and the only touch that didn't leave bruises. 

His gratitude for her collided with momentary guilt as he unlaced the front of his pants. Would she be repulsed if she knew? He took himself in his hand and ran his thumb over the tip. No. His fantasy was largely innocent: the two of them nestled somewhere comfortable, safe, together, her head resting on his chest. She'd look up at him, smile, and peck a kiss to his lips. She'd trace formless shapes across his skin with her fingertips. They'd doze. Omare dared to wonder whether somewhere else in the mountain she imagined the same thing, and the thought shook out a little thrill of pleasure. He began stroking in light, tender pulls: this was the one scant indulgence he was afforded in his prison. He may as well show himself some kindness. 

But Omare's breath had just begun to come quicker when the sound of boots on stone yanked him from his distraction. He stuffed himself back into his pants and sat up, squinting towards the darkened passageway across the cavern. Torchlight flickered against the walls, illuminating a solitary figure, but it wasn't until he drew close to the cage that Omare could get a clear look at his visitor. Not Yujin, but another familiar face. Relief swept through him, chased close behind by apprehension.

"Rensai." 

The Counselor's son smiled and leaned close. The torchlight sharpened the peaks of his warpaint, setting every angle of his training-lean frame in relief. "Prince Omare. How are you this evening?"

Omare kept a wary silence, uncertain of how to answer. They'd met in person only a handful of times, usually during ambassadors' meetings between Mountain and City, and on none of those occasions did Omare come away with a firm grasp on Rensai's nature. Clever and sociable, and quite unlike his taciturn father in looks as much as personality. That was all he'd ever gleaned. Yujin didn't agree with the war, even despite her position. Barest hope kindled within him that the same were true for Rensai.

"I brought you some water." Rensai hefted a skin filled near to bursting and gratitude flooded through Omare in a rush. "You weren't scheduled to receive any until morning."

"Thank you," Omare breathed, gripping the links in his cage. Rensai drew close and flicked the stopper out with his thumb, holding the spout against the curved side of the cell. It was awkward to get there, he had to arch his body flush against the cage, but Omare pressed against the metal and opened his mouth. Cool water spilled over his tongue, an unimaginably welcome relief, and Omare gulped down as much as he could manage without choking.

Rensai lifted the skin abruptly and Omare made a sound of protest. "Ah ah, don't be greedy," Rensai chided softly. He let the waterskin fall back to his side. "You're lucky to have more than one benefactor as it is. She's lovely, isn't she?"

Omare stilled, the back of his hand still pressed to his mouth, and looked up at Rensai. They were close, only a handful of metal links between them, but still he couldn't read Rensai's expression. "Who?" he asked cautiously. 

"Yujin."

There was an edge to Rensai's tone, smoothed away with another smile. Danger prickled at the base of Omare's spine. He straightened up and away from the edge of the cage.

"Oh, don't do that," Rensai protested. "Your secret is safe with me."

Rensai liked secrets. Omare could tell just by looking at him. It didn't make him keen to share one, much less one that could implicate Yujin. 

"You probably thought she was the one visiting you tonight. I'm not as sweet, I'm afraid. But now that I'm here, I confess that I'm curious." Rensai lifted the torch higher and pinned Omare with a look. "Is that for her or for me?"

Omare frowned, confused, but Rensai lifted the torch higher still and spilled the cage with flickering light. Omare followed his gaze as it moved downward to rest at his hips. Omare's still hard cock twitched and he jerked away from the edge of the cage, turning his back to Rensai as blood burned hot in his cheeks. Rensai made a soft sound of disappointment and paced around to the other side. 

"Let me see."

"Fuck off," Omare spat, turning his back to Rensai again, but it got him nowhere: they could go in circles for hours, but Omare would still be the one caught under the predator's gaze. 

"Let me see and I'll let you out."

Omare shot Rensai a glare, eyes narrowed. "Liar."

Rensai laughed. "What are the consequences if I am? I humiliate you? I leave you in your cell? I could accomplish either without any effort from you, and you wouldn't even get to stretch your legs." He lifted the waterskin again. "You're still thirsty, aren't you?"

Omare seethed, heartbeat thundering in his ears while Rensai regarded him patiently. If Rensai let him out, he could quench his thirst. He could escape to find Capo, maybe even Yujin, and seek out his sister. And if he could smash Rensai's face in on his way, all the better. It was the thrill of escape that was making him harder, he told himself furiously as he reached inside his pants. It wasn't the way Rensai's lips parted, nor the soft breath he let out when Omare took out his cock. 

"That's it." 

Omare stood there burning with fury and shame, but Rensai drew closer. 

"Our deal?" Omare hissed, backing up to the opposite side of his tiny prison. A flicker of irritation passed over Rensai's face as he fitted his torch into a bracket on the wall, then was back in a breath at the side of Omare's cage. Rensai didn't answer, one hand gripped in the metal links and the other fingering the laces of his own pants. He took out his cock too and Omare had to swallow back his reaction, staring as it lay hard and heavy in Rensai's hand. 

"Come closer."

Omare's feet obeyed for him, and Rensai reached one long finger through the links of the cell to brush along the underside of Omare's cock. Omare shivered, pressing his eyes shut, and Rensai's responding chuckle felt warm and soft on his skin. 

"I'll let you out," he said lowly, "as promised. But you mustn't run, hm? Stay close for me."

Omare nodded feverishly and in a whoosh of air the cage door was open. He staggered out, legs shaky, but Rensai stabilized him with an iron grip on his arm. He shoved Omare up against the cage and curled his hand around Omare's cock, squeezing hard. A surprised whimper clawed its way out of Omare's throat. 

"Hush." Rensai's breath was a rush in his ear; Omare could smell the smoke and sweat and leather on him. "Be good, be still."

Omare didn't like this. This wasn't worth the risk, there would surely be other opportunities to free Capo and make their escape, but every thought of running was pulled further away with each of Rensai's firm, unhurried strokes. Omare shuddered beneath him and felt Rensai's grip on his wrists relax slightly. Omare kept them overhead anyway, too distracted by the hand between his legs, by whom it was coming from, and how it inexplicably kept him rooted in place. Omare closed his eyes. 

"There. Not so terrible, is it?"

It was. It wasn't. He wanted to squirm free but every effort died halfway, leaving him only with feeble jerks of his hips to bring himself closer to Rensai's hand. Rensai noticed and growled in satisfaction, pressing a knee between Omare's legs and grinding their hips together. 

"Have you done this with her?" 

Rensai punctuated the question with a sharp kiss just below his ear and Omare's eyes flew open again. Yujin? But Rensai's hand was moving in vicious, unrelenting strokes now, and dazed at the sudden intensity of it, Omare could only groan. He groped for Rensai's cock and tried to match the pace, but Rensai only snorted and batted his hand away. 

"She wouldn't make you beg. I will."

Stone collided with knees in a painful flash as Omare was forced downward, and before he could draw breath to cry out, Rensai had pressed his cock to Omare's lips. 

"Open your mouth."

Omare gasped for air but Rensai pushed inside anyway. He choked - he'd never done this before - but Rensai settled into an easy, languid rhythm and Omare let himself be swept away by the push and pull of it. 

"That's very good, little prince," Rensai sighed above him. The words skittered a shock down Omare's spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and jerked his hand over his own cock in desperate, harried motions. "You're a natural." 

Omare hardly knew what to make of that compliment so he thought instead of what he liked: he kissed and licked, relaxing his throat as best he could, listening for the changes in Rensai's breath and letting those reactions guide him. Rensai's fingers wove into his hair and suddenly he felt very far away from himself. This wasn't him on his knees in the Archers' Den, this had to be someone else, this was a moment apart, and when he moaned around Rensai's cock at the pleasure building beneath his own hand, it all existed far away from him. Rensai leaned over him.

"Do you know how many times I've had Yujin like this?" he whispered in Omare's ear. "How many times she has come to me begging for this?"

Omare's sound of protest was muffled when Rensai tightened his grip in his hair and jerked his hips, holding Omare deep. He didn't want to think about that, didn't want to know about it, no part of this was real--

"The next time you think of her, think of her on her knees for me, every memory of some insignificant little prince too far to reach." 

He couldn't picture her like that. He couldn't bear it, the image of it only formed in the barest snatches of red and black and rhythmic movement, muffled sound and desperate sighs. That wasn't Yujin, she would never beg for _this._ Omare gagged and at last Rensai pulled back, though he kept a rigid grip on Omare's head as Omare collapsed in a panting heap against Rensai's leg, a pillar of support. 

"I don't care if it was for me or Yujin," Rensai breathed. "From now on, this belongs to _me._ Say it."

Omare glared up at him through watering eyes, breath stuck in his throat, afraid that if he opened his mouth to speak Rensai would just fill it again. Afraid that he wouldn't.

Rensai tightened his grip on Omare's hair and nudged the tip of Omare's cock with his boot. Omare whimpered. _"Say it,"_ he repeated in a low growl.

"It's yours," Omare gasped out. His legs were shaking, his knees had gone numb, he leaned his head against Rensai as he fought to catch his breath. "It's yours, now please--"

"Go on then." Disgusted.

Rensai's hand relaxed as Omare brought himself off with just a few more harried, clumsy strokes. He groaned when he came, teeth gritted, pressing his face into Rensai's hips as he striped the floor and Rensai's boot. He was permitted only a few dazed breaths, then,

"Clean that up."

"Fuck you," Omare panted. He chanced a glare up at Rensai and found him completely at his leisure, running long fingers over the length of his cock. Rensai smiled. 

"Would you like that?" Omare's blood ran cold but mercifully Rensai didn't wait for an answer. "Go on. We both know you're thirsty."

Omare's steeled himself and, an incessant mantra of _it's not real, it's not real, it's not real_ echoing in his skull, lowered his head and swiped his tongue over Rensai's boot. 

"Very good," came the breathy praise from above. Before Omare could react Rensai hooked a thumb into Omare's collar, yanked him upward, and came with a groan over Omare's face. A torrent of water followed, drenching him, and Omare was hauled to his feet, shoved backwards, and sent tumbling and spluttering back into his cage. His vision cleared just in time to see Rensai toss the empty waterskin to the ground. Rensai gripped the links of the cage and leaned menacingly through the open door. The torchlight made him look snakelike, venomous.

"If you speak to her again, if you so much as _look_ at her, I will know. And I will make you regret it."

Omare couldn't speak. Satisfied regardless, Rensai yanked the prison door closed. He kicked it once for good measure, then stalked back the way he came. When the tread of his boots had finally died, Omare had only himself, his cell, and the flickering torch to illuminate what little he'd been left with.

**Author's Note:**

> I was experimenting with Rensai being closer to the horrible bastard he's supposed to be annnnd it kind of got away from me. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ Had a good time with it at least!


End file.
